In the Aftermath, She was There
by readmered
Summary: After the war, the Doctor is broken. She comes to save him as she did before, but how will she nurse him back to health if she herself is fighting against their fate?
1. Chapter 1

Title: In the Aftermath, She was There

Disclaimer: If Doctor Who was mine, I would not be writing fanfiction.

Summary: After the war, the Doctor is broken. She comes to save him as she did before.

A/N: The Day of the Doctor never happened except for Bad Wolf as the Moment. Sorry, but it was crap in my opinion. This story will also be on my Tumblr (same username). This is totally un-beta'd, so all mistakes are mine, but if anyone would like to try out, PM me!

Chapter One: The Children

The Moment had come.

"There isn't really a choice, is there?" His hearts seized in his chest.

Bad Wolf only shook her head with a small, dead smile. She was beautiful, he thought. Soft gold hair in ringlets framed a heart-shaped face and her wide, full lips looked oddly tempting. Who was this Rose Tyler and why had one of the most powerful forces in the cosmos chosen some primitive Earthling to emulate? Too many questions but right now he only had one.

"There's something else," the Lord General's voice was hardly a broken whisper. Soft brown eyes considered him carefully. "How many-" he whetted his lips. "How many children are on Gallifrey, _right now? How many will I kill?!"_ His voice grew, becoming shrill.

His anger only gave his mind fuel for even more hate and despair. Except this time, it was directed at the cruel _thing_ in front of him. This weapon took the form of one of his more beloved species and twisted his image. It wasn't Rose Tyler, or Bad Wolf, or whatever it wanted to call itself. If this incarnation had been more anger-prone, he would have raged and screamed and cursed it's existence. But no, he would not. And the Moment knew that.

The thing with Rose Tyler's face tilted it's head thoughtfully. Once again, The Doctor wondered if it was teasing him or even trying to prolong this crucial moment. "You don't want to know," it concluded cryptically.

"Probably not, but I need to… I need to remember, if I'm going to do this." The Moment looked at him with something akin to pity. Actually, it was more like empathy.

"I know. I just wanted to give you a chance to turn a blind eye. But you're still the Doctor, and you just can't do that, can you?" its chest rose and fell in a sigh before continuing. "Two hundred forty-seven billion, five hundred eighty million, one hundred ninety-three thousand, seven hundred and children will die today." It sentences them to death like telling him what the day of the month it is. Of course, to the Moment, it would be only a number. How could it possibly comprehend lives and souls and the worth of a mind? He falls to his hands and knees – almost like he's praying – at the Goddess's feet.

"Can I save anyone?" he is pleading now.

"Yes." He looks up at it with scarcely veiled hope. "You do this, you save the universe from the corrupt pride of the Time Lords. I'm sorry, there is nothing else to do." She didn't look sorry for what he was to do, just for him. Then the bane of his lives reached for his hand. Only once it had helped him to his feet and over to the Big Red Button in the center of the barn did he notice something strange. Her hand – not the Moment's, but this girl's hand – fit perfectly in his. His eyes closed. She had said this girl was someone from his future. He had questioned whether he had actually had one, but now he had a little hope. Perhaps Rose Tyler would be something bright in the bleak life he saw ahead of him.

"Will this kill me?"

"Yes and no. You will regenerate, and from there you will have to find the Doctor again. But," It stopped and gave a real smile, eyes softening, "you won't have to do it alone. She will save you." He wanted to interrupt and ask who could possibly stand by him, the murderer of multitudes, but it gave him a pointed look and continued. "Now, you must finish what you have started. End it, and run until your hearts give out."

He didn't look at the Interface as he placed his scarred fingers over the enormous jewel and tried to slow the frantic fluttering of his hearts.

His hand pressed only gently and the Moment disappeared. His vision was assaulted with a view of his own mind, and he saw all of time and space convulse as if taking a deep breath and relax. The Daleks were reduced to ash, and a conflagration muffled the screams of his people as they fought the inevitable. Some took longer to fall, but each tether of their mutual mindscape burned in a flash and fell into the darkness beyond.

He saw Romana, his old ally, not screaming or pleading as so many others had. It was too late for that. She saw what was coming and let go, not enduring the pain of being ripped away.

His own mother exuded sorrow and loss to rival his own as she wailed, her despair turning to terror.

And then they were al gone but one. Rassilion. He clung to consciousness with anger and hate and fear as his anchor. And then he, too fell to the power that the Doctor unleashed. For a final time he saw Bad Wolf lend him a hand as he stood in the eye of the storm.

The being who could stand strong at the end of his world led him away to the comfort of his dearest friend, and his TARDIS wept with him as their home fell away. Golden light surrounded them and they flew away from the carnage, the hole in space and time, and into peaceful, quiet space.

The TARDIS couldn't risk the Vortex, because the Moment was there, too, destroying all trace of any Time Lords who didn't belong. The precious few who had been in the Vortex at the time of the moment, like the Corsair, were thrown outside of the prime universe into a strange place that called itself House. Their distress signals weren't received for a very long time, not until a joyous Time Lord found them and came to see those he believed he had killed. He never found them.

The TARDIS, although distraught, found somewhere near the Rose Nebula where she could rest, and her Thief could hide from the universe.

For seven days they drifted; the man inside was damaged to even stand, clothed only in the rags he had regenerated in, not knowing what new pain Fate would deal next.

In his catatonic state half a TARDIS away, he was never made aware of a bright flash and a sound like a gun materializing into existence next to the console room. Nor did he hear the cry of shock and joy that came from the mouth of one Rose Tyler as she found her home again.

A/N: This is my first-ever fanfiction, so please R&R to say if I should continue! After this one, the chapters should be longer.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The War to End All Wars

Disclaimer: I own nothing except a TARDIS mug and a Ten/Rose poster. *Sigh*

A/N: Once again no Beta, so you can all blame me! Enjoy…?

Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth, Stuff of Legends, The Abomination, the Valiant Child, was tired.

No, that wasn't it. She was lonely. Alright, she was tired too, but that was less important.

Fifteen years ago, she had seen the end of Torchwood. She had spent fifty years helping it grow, earning her six doctorates, trying to ignore her past. Then, she spent another hundred tearing it down. From the beginning, she had known. Rose Tyler was dead. As she fell that day at Canary Wharf, her not-father had appeared out of nowhere and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her back, away from the Doctor, keeping her safe.

She snorted. _Safe._ She was about as safe as a fox being burned out of her home. Her expression darkened as she remembered the pain.

 _One thing Pete Tyler had not expected when he materialized was to have his not-daughter flying towards him. He never got the dimension hopper around her. She died. Her body and soul lost to the Void. She ceased to exist._

 _And then she woke up, a gold membrane heavy around her mind. Two words appeared in her subconscious. Bad Wolf. She had seen this coming while filled with the untempered schism of the TARDIS's heart. But like Jack (the memories had slowly tricked back over time), she hadn't been able to control the results. Rose Tyler aged like any other human. If, that is, any other human had ridiculously fast cell regeneration and capacity for higher frequency brain waves that made her a stronger telepath than any human that ever did or will exist. Like the Doctor would say, she was Impossible._

 _In other words, she had been mostly Rose Tyler, but Bad Wolf lay dormant ever since the Game Station ready to protect her if need be. That small, sleeping cache of pure energy saved her as she crossed the Howling, but as she was destroyed, the Golden Goddess adapted, filling in the gaps and becoming more prevalent in her biology. Now it wouldn't leave. She wasn't a Time Lord. Not even close. They weren't made up of Vortex…stuff._

 _She was – well, the only word Rose had to describe herself was Abomination. Like nothing else before, she walked from moment to moment, only bound by her mortal side. If she allowed herself, she could take one step England 2171, and the next in Barcelona (the planet, not the city), year 7634. Since she was still partially human, she knew if the input Bad Wolf received was too strong, her mind would burn like it had that day so long ago. She theorized that if this happened, the Vortex would completely consume her physical body, and she would become a TARDIS herself. Frankly, Rose didn't like that theory much. A big eleven-dimensional box without a pilot or friend or even someone to speak to in all of time and space? No thank you._

 _Now, she could see timelines so clearly that she could hardly distinguish them from the present. That worried her. Over the years, she had slowly been overcome by this new view of the world. Shutting herself off had done nothing to help, so she bottled Bad Wolf away, hiding her ability to travel through the vortex without any assistance, smothering the timelines. Now, she was simply a genius telepathic human girl in her mid-twenties that had destroyed half the Earth._

 _One hundred and twenty years ago, Torchwood had come into contact with a Time Agent who had been thrown off course. The greed and ambition of the humans around her manipulated the technology, growing and expanding far outside of where human should ever go. Time travel was mass produced, and soon every first world country was filled with the devices._

 _Rose immediately recognized the danger and wasted no time in spreading the word to anyone she met, from scientists to housewives. The party against using time travel grew, but it wasn't enough. Not long after, programming for the general populous were spread in commercials, advertised of the streets, even sold in the black market. Torchwood theorized that if they only gave codes that would lead them into the future, no harm would be done and no paradoxes made._

 _They couldn't have been more wrong._

 _As history fell apart around her and the rebellion failed, Rose made the final decision. It had been many years since she freed the Vortex, letting it fill her every cell, power and the silky smooth feel of time filling every pore of her skin. Going back and preventing this would cause a disastrous paradox, but if she removed the humans and righted the wrongs they had don't to the fabric of time, the timelines would be preserved._

 _As she gazed across the stars, everywhere and nowhere at once, she saw the Darkness. She saw what it would do. She saw it destroy every universe of creation itself. Every one would blink out of existence until nothing was left but – here, she normally would have grimaced in disgust – the Daleks._

 _Once again pushing back as much of Bad Wolf as she could, she returned to earth and stood on the empty streets of London. Every car was abandoned, strollers and bikes left unattended. Piles of clothing and abandoned groceries littered the sidewalks. They were all gone, and she was alone. Rose Tyler fell to her knees on the hard black pavement and threw her head back. Her scream reverberated for miles, but only rats and rodents of the sewers looked up at the sound of pure despair._

"Alright, enough of that." Rubbing her hand over her face at the dark memory, she pulled herself from the dark corners of her mind and got back to work. The in-flux modulator had become misaligned with the arabellum input spectrometer while she leaned against it, lost in thought.

Once she adjusted the necessary components, talking herself through it all the while, she wiped the grease off her palms onto her work jeans and strode over to her modified radio.

"I've tinkered with it until it could pick up frequencies from the planet Maltraxion. Did you know the fourth great matriarch – the planet was run mostly by women – loved the Rolling Stones? She just so happened to start a century of cultural exploration which happened to kick start a fascination with Earth 20th and 21st century music! Why, I have no idea." She paused and tried to figure out who she was talking to.

"Ha! Only fifteen years and I've already gone 'round the bend!"

As soon as she tuned in, Soft Cell's Tainted Love began to play. Rose's mouth split into a wide grin, tongue and all, when her head was filled with much happier memories. She remembered the day the Doctor had taken her to see the end of the Earth and they had played "classical music." He had looked beautifully ridiculous, all big ears and leather as he wiggled in an imitation of a dance. As she began to swing to the techno beat, she imagined that Doctor dancing with her again, spinning her around the console, bright blue eyes shining, the TARDIS filled with music and laughter and hidden innuendoes and Jack _(oh, Jack, how I miss you)_ recounting his escapades, most of which he ended up naked with at least one feisty new piece of eye-candy.

By the time the song ended, she felt inspired, ready to work harder than she ever had before. She remembered why she was working on a dimension cannon on a desolate Earth in the wrong universe, why she couldn't stop, and why she couldn't give up. The Darkness was coming, and so was Bad Wolf.

One year later, she had locked onto the TARDIS. It didn't matter which one; the Doctor in any incarnation could get her back to the right timeline and to her Doctor. She gulped in breath and prayed to all the gods she had stopped believing in years ago.

"I'm coming, Doctor."

A/N: The reason Rose took longer to build this dimension cannon was because she only has one chance and no one to pull her back. Sorry that this was all setup, I promise we'll have a one-sided reunion soon! R&R please?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The First Face he Saw

Disclaimer: I am an American teenager without any job. So no, I do not own Doctor Who.

Rose Tyler felt the same sensation of being pulled apart and reassemble as she did so very long ago. She was lost in memories of white walls and sand beaches and the man she cared for so dearly and even her mother who she had watched grow old and die. Once she came to her senses, she immediately recognized the very same TARDIS she had left.

Her mind was assaulted with various scenes.

 _Her leather Doctor and her younger self finding her and their eyes widening in surprise_

 _Her pinstriped Doctor, Mickey Smith (who she had also watched die after suffering from Alzheimer's), and herself completely taken unawares by this new, older Rose._

 _The same Doctor she had left, but no longer hers stood with a new companion without a face. He turned to her and asked what she had done, looking at her with apprehension._

 _A totally new Doctor, and even newer companions, who had long since forgotten her raised his eyebrows in surprise. He considered her with an expression that said she was nothing to him but a new puzzle to solve._

Now that she had successfully worried herself, she searched around the room for the Doctor – any Doctor. When she came up empty, she decided to take a look out the doors. Running forward, she threw the exit open to reveal – the Rose nebula. Twisting to gaze at the console, she commented on the location.

"Is this irony or fate?" She grinned, knowing neither she nor the Doctor ever believed in the ridiculous notion of Fate.

As she was expecting a cheerful hum of agreement, what she received from the TARDIS was quite a shock. As her mind made contact with the ship's, Rose gasped and tried to hide from the wave of grief.

What had happened? What could possibly have done this to her old friend? Her determination to find the Doctor turned into panic. An answer occurred to her – he was dead. But no, she shook herself. If he was dead, the TARDIS would be too. He was on the ship she was sure, but as she ran down the single hallway her doubts raged.

The corridor that was usually filled with hundreds of doors now only had two, one she recognized as the Doctor's room, distinguishable by the Gallifreyan scrawled across the upper half. Pushing the normally locked door open with ease, she stepped in.

The first time she had come into this room, she had heard the Doctor's cries as he thrashed in the claws of a horrible nightmare. The TARDIS had unlocked the door and raised the lights enough for her to find him in his cluttered room. She hadn't woken him, only sitting there at his side, his head in her lap until he had calmed and drifted into a deeper sleep. Once he woke he held her in his arms and told her about the Time War. A few times after that, they had spent some time together in his room, and very rarely she would come again to relieve his nightmares. She had a strange feeling he wanted her to come to him more often, but she was to terrified of misreading him. Rose loved that memory because it was one of the few times she had seen him without his usual leather armor, and he had let her into his heart, if only a little. And a little was enough for Rose.

Now though, many things were wrong.

The floor was still a dark, beautiful rosewood, and the walls were covered in the same ornate plum wallpaper, but no bookshelves lined the walls, no famous sculptures stood in the corners, tables full of various experiments or items he had collected were missing completely. Not even a nightstand or rug made the bed seem more inviting.

The bed was the only piece of furniture in the room. A deep red velvet curtain with gold tassels on the fringe hung from the four posts over the silvery quilted bedspread. That was mostly the same but she still felt a sense of _wrong_ in seeing the room so bare.

One more theory was forming in her mind, but she prayed it wasn't true.

Closing and locking his door, she turned to the only other door available . She would have to help the TARDIS replace some of the more crucial rooms, like the bathroom and kitchen and – if necessary – her room as well.

This last door she had seen before, but it had always been locked. When she asked her Doctor about it, his face grew a pained look and he tried to brush it off, mumbling something about "gardening" or "just some quiet place, I guess" but never giving an answer. She didn't ask again.

Walking up to the mysterious room, the TARDIS unlocked the door with a soft click and it swung open on its own. From beyond, bright daylight from two suns and hot red grass shone through.

Taking hesitant steps, more of the garden was revealed to her. In the distance, clear blue mountains shimmered and silver tree groves dotted the landscape. Turquoise streams and unfamiliar forest animals surrounded her. From what little the Doctor could get out, this must be what Gallifrey looked like before the war.

A beautiful marble-like fountain stood in the middle of the glade she had found herself in. Near that, a pile of burned and torn clothing was wrapped around a figure that was too large for it.

Rose ran forward and grasped him by the shoulders. Pulling him so his back was propped against her front. Tears beginning to fall at the affirmation of her theory, she begged the TARDIS to send them to his room.

In the blink of an eye, they lay together on the hard wood beside his bed. Thanking the old girl, she gently set him down and wiped away the tears that continued to fall. Seeing her first Doctor sick and so damaged was unbelievably painful.

She began to take off the tattered rags he must have worn in the incarnation before this. She also wondered where the velvet vest and brass pocket watch had come from, while the rest of his clothes looked like, well, a warrior's outfit. From a regeneration even before his last, perhaps? She would have to ask.

But asking this Doctor about it might not be a good idea, seeing as she had no idea what mental damage he must've endured while the rest of his planet died.

"Oh, Doctor, I am so sorry," she thought about leaving it there, then decided what she would do from here on out. "I'm here. I'm with you, and I'm never going to leave you." At the sound of her voice, a few of the lines on the Doctor's brow eased. Rose ran her hand over his cheek, her fingers brushing his familiar jawline.

She continued to remove the singed garments 'til he had only his trousers and pants left before hooking her arms under his and doing her best to lift him onto the bed.

After wrestling with his dead weight for a few minutes, she had finally managed to lift him onto the bed and covered his supine form with the duvet. Tucking the covers around him, she placed a chaste kiss on his forehead and strode out of the bedroom and back to the console.

Very soon she would have to get some sleep, but first, she wanted to get a little superheated radicals and tannin into the Doctor to help with the regeneration. And to do that, she would have to bring back the galley.

Reaching her consciousness out to the TARDIS's, she braced herself for the onslaught of pain and loss she had upon fist arriving. It didn't come. Instead, a wave of apology and gratitude came from the golden heart. Together they saw the TARDIS, smaller than she ever had been before, and began to build. The first rooms they recovered were the kitchen, which now looked like a vintage coffee shop in Paris, two bathrooms, and Rose's own room.

This Rose gave most of the instructions for. Now it was much larger, and had plain dark magenta walls instead of the loud bubblegum pink. The floors were a light cherry wood replacing the thick lime green carpeting. Just in case, she also added a door connecting Her old room had been full of kickshaws, clothes, and products. In lieu of all that, she had piles of books covering everything from smutty romances to advanced string theory. All of the work she had done in parallel desolate Earth now appeared – thesis papers and experiments, even an AI robot she had named Jack programed to tell a host of inappropriate jokes and innuendos while she worked. She set a lock on the door that would activate as soon as she left this point in the timeline and returned to the TARDIS she remembered so her younger self wouldn't find her future self's room.

Satisfied, she helped the TARDIS set a base program for several more less necessary rooms and then separated their minds.

It felt like that horrible moment when you crawl out of bed on a cold winter morning and you have somewhere to be in twenty minutes – cold, uncomfortable, and could easily make her a she-devil.

Shaking off the loss of another's mind, she walked to the kitchen and put water on the stove for herbal tea. Since the Doctor (or Rose anymore) didn't usually need sleep often, there wasn't much caffeine to be had in the cupboards. She smiled slightly at the thought of her overactive Doctor in pinstripes actually drinking caffeine.

While waiting, she decided to go check up on the Doctor. Seeing him now, so very soon after the war, hurt. This Doctor had always been strong and a little cut off. Wearing his armor and running as far as he possibly could. With Rose holding his hand of course.

Rose grimaced when she remembered all the mistakes she had made before him, with Jimmy Stone and Mickey, while with him , on Father's day and so many times otherwise, and after him. There was a boy she met, Andrew, who had loved to paint, and especially loved to paint her, or so he said. That was during the rebellion. Later she found he had only wanted to be seen as important, and dating the leader of the resistance movement had done that. When she got angry, he had called her out, calling her cruel, shallow, cold, clingy, and a host of other things she couldn't help but feel were true.

But now, looking down at him, she was grateful to be here again, even if it meant going through her own pain to help him with his.

As she was about to turn away again, Rose heard movement behind her. He had no words, but the cries and near-sobs were enough to consider him conscious. She ran to his bedside and held his shoulders still as he thrashed. As soon as she made contact with his skin however, he stilled and looked up at her with teary crystalline eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" Rose almost cried in relief at hearing the rude Northern burr after so long. But how could she answer him?

"I'm… My name is…" _Rose_ "Violet." Yeah. That was safe, and he may not even recognize her properly if he saw the young Rose. At least, not before she locked away his memories of her before 2005 at least.

"Violet," he said her alias with disdain. "Why don't I believe you?"

She couldn't help but smile. "Because you're quite impressive, dear. But now, you need to rest," she paused, unsure of how to proceed. "I'll bring your tea soon." She tucked the covers around him, making sure he wouldn't try to get out of bed until she said so.

"Well then, _Violet_ , unless you're here to kill me, I suppose… thank you."

A/N: No, he doesn't recognize her from the Moment and he never will. Also, next chapter will be from the Doctor's POV so I've go to watch some episodes to get the characterization right. R&R please and thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Getting to Know You… and Me**

 **Disclaimer: I have as much chance at owning Doctor Who as Rory Williams does of staying alive.**

 **A/N: Just watched Boom Town again and I couldn't stop smiling! I miss Nine so much…considerably longer chapter here – Warning! FLUFF AHEAD**

The enigmatic brunette toed out of his room but he could do nothing but stare as she left. In the short time she was with him, he came up with several ideas.

When he first saw her, she looked to be mid-twenties, pretty, and very worried about something. Something dark sat in her eyes, sad and old. What could someone like that worry about? Maybe him? Why would she be–

Suddenly an onslaught of memories of blood and war and enemies and death surrounded him. Initially, his forehead only furrowed. Then as he remembered more, he began to shake, the bed creaking with the violent spasms. The Would-be King and his army of Neverwheres slaughtered his brothers. His fists clenched the cloth beneath them. The Host and the Horde of Travesties fed off his life force, reducing him to a husk. He couldn't help a cry escaping his lips. The Nightmare Child laughed throughout time as he played with the timelines like toys, snapping each one and turning anything and everything to ash. Tears leaked from his eyes. President Rassilion, ordering the Final Sanction and his fear for all he loved.

And here he lay, warm and cared for back at home in his TARDIS with a beautiful young woman tending to his wounds. _Why?_ His mind raged. How had he survived the Moment? The strange box had stood dormant, seeming so innocent as he destroyed worlds.

Words came to him then. _"She will save you,"_ was whispered huskily, like a secret.

More silent tears rolled down unfamiliar cheeks and he closed his eyes against the stinging. He shouldn't be saved. He shouldn't have lived. And he never should have… Hold on. Why was a woman in his TARDIS?!

He bolted into a sitting position, anger at _something_ blazing with full force, the very moment the woman – Violet, he reminded himself – returned with a cup of warm tea.

"Oi! Sit back right now! You will not move until you're over this regeneration." His mouth opened and closed, astonished at being spoken to in such a way (and slightly turned on). She took the opportunity of his shock to pour tea into his open mouth, making his sputter with indignation. When he swallowed, she leaned in and brushed the dampness off his face, looking incredibly sad.

"Who do you think you are? I am perfectly fine and you will leave this instant!" For some reason, he felt he should be harsher to a stranger in his magnificent ship, but her gentle touch and kind mannerisms and abrupt instructions left him at a loss of what to do. This is not what he should be doing so soon after…

"I most certainly will not, Doctor. Now you must drink." Once again taken off guard by her candidness, he obeyed and said back slightly.

"That's better, isn't it?" A very faint Cockney accent surprised him, although he wasn't sure why. She looked to be in complete orderly disarray, her wavy brown hair fell to her lower back in a half-attempted pleat and she wore no make-up loose strands of hair fell into her face, and it probably hadn't been properly washed in some time. Considering that, she didn't smell too nice either – a oil and grease and metal obscuring some of her natural scent. Her clothes were simple. A baggy gray jumper covered her top and green trousers ended in tattered high top red converse.

And yet, she had an air of someone very smart (slightly pompous, not that he was better. Probably far worse if this face was as rude as he thought) and more than aware of her surroundings. So far, Violet made no sense.

"Why are you here?" he queried. Quickly, the Doctor had a rather startling idea. "I didn't get amnesia again, did I? The last…" he stopped himself from even mentioning his previous incarnation, and Violet watched him with a gentle pity. "…Doctor… he had amnesia when he regenerated. You wouldn't happen to be someone I don't remember meeting, would you?" He glowered. "Although, if you _were_ my companion, I might ask you to dress better." Ooh, for some reason the Northern accent went very well with insults. That'd make things interesting.

"Why? For the past few years I haven't had anyone to say differently!" Her tone was offended, but he saw a small grin puling at her mouth. A strong urge to make her smile for real made him say, "Well, now that I'm here, I suppose we'll have slumber parties and braid each other's hair and have spa days!" He knew he had spoken as if it was his worst nightmare, but _what?_ He, the Doctor, did not offer to braid girl's hair!

But he stopped yelling at himself when she let out a hearty laugh ended with a tongue-in-teeth grin.

"But Doctor, you don't have much hair for me to braid, now do you?" His hand when to his head to feel the short crew-cut of his newest hairstyle. Seeing his reaction, Violet guffawed again. She was teasing him like they had been friends for years and he realized she never answered his original question.

He sipped his tea. "So what, I've gotten amnesia again?" She looked at him, surprised.

"No, you just haven't met me yet." She smiled again, but it was less teasing and more looked slightly disappointed. That did not sit well.

"Ah." His jaw snapped shut and he forced his face blank. "So you aren't staying." She straightened her posture and looked him in the eye. He stared right back.

"I'm staying for as long as you want me, Doctor." He began to protest, to say he didn't want her at all, but stopped himself when he saw her look of uncertainty. He had just come from the Last Great Time War, and here he was, chatting away and drinking tea with some odd human girl in her twenties.

A miraculous, almost imperceptible smile lifted his lips.

"Good. You make a pretty decent cuppa, so it can't hurt to keep you around for a while." He let her in. This woman – practically a child – was now part of his life.

"Good." She smiled that grateful, yet still sad, smile down at him, then pulled a chair he hadn't realized was there an sat upon it, feet away from where he was tucked in. She looked resolute, a guard for him in his weakened state.

"So, you know about regeneration and you seem to be familiar with my TARDIS, you haven't seen many people for a while, and you make a damned good cup of tea, and you've some how ended up here even after the-" He chocked on his words for a moment. "Want to tell he how the hell that happened?"

"Nope," she exclaimed popping the 'p' obnoxiously, but grinning like it was a private joke. "Now, you are going to rest and once you are healed more, we'll take a little jaunt, maybe visit a nice, calm planet or two, and then when I know you're doing alright, we'll talk." Her tone left no room for brokering a compromise and the Doctor felt oddly safe letting her take charge, something he _hated_ doing, in any incarnation. Especially this one, he was quickly discovering.

"And what will you do as I regain my strength, _Violet?_ " he accentuated her name, reminding her that he still didn't believe her. She didn't seem to care.

"I will be right here, making sure you don't wander off."

"Oi! I never- It's always-" He came up short, wondering what he was abut to say.

"Rule number one, Doctor!" She mocked in a sing-song voice. More serious, she instructed, "Now sleep, I'll have another cup ready for you when you wake up."

As she left the bedroom, he called, "And that's another thing! How do you know how this body likes his tea?"

She grinned mischievously. "If you behave, you can have a banana too!" His eyes widened and he promptly laid down and closed his eyes.

~:~:~

When he woke, he quickly noted he had slept for exactly nine hours, fourteen minutes, and twenty six seconds. When he opened his eyes, He had a moment of bliss. The world hadn't caught up with him yet, and he didn't have to remember anything. Turning on his side like he usually did when waking up, he noticed something was attached to him. His coarse hand was held in the gentle grasp of an unfamiliar but very beautiful woman.

Once more his past assaulted him but this time, he couldn't help but cry out in shock. Violet was awake and attentive immediately, taking both his hands in hers, waiting out the storm.

As his subconscious raged, his physical form convulsed, arching off the mattress and almost dislodging Violet. Then she began to speak. Her voice swept over him like cold water, soothing the fire in his veins.

He still trembled, but the soft fingers running over him soothed the tremors and he was at last able to control his own body.

"Violet?" The name still sounded wrong coming off of his lips, like it didn't quite fit the soft delicate skin of her hands in his.

"I'm here, Doctor." Tears pricked behind his eyes, but didn't come forward. Instead of giving in, he smiled up at her, making contact with deep whiskey eyes.

"I think I'll take that tea, if you don't mind," he lightened his voice, pushing back the images and focusing on the present. It was worth it, she smiled and turned around, taking a cup off another piece of furniture he hadn't realized was there.

Noting his confusion, she explained.

"When I got here, there was only the console room and your completely empty one, so she's busy trying to rebuild herself." So, she knew the ship was sentient.

"I expected that. My previous self didn't spend much time using recreational rooms, what with the war and all." Whoa. He just mentioned the Time War. He just _casually_ mentioned the Time War. He felt sick. Violet, apparently sensing this, reached for a bucket as he rolled off the bed and onto the floor. She held it beneath him as he retched, an arm across his back and speaking more calming words.

"There, Doctor, it'll get better, I promise. It ain't easy now, and it'll be hard, but trust me, we can handle it, you an' me" In her concern, her accent grew a little and he found it quite endearing. Or, he would have, if he hadn't been heaving over a plastic bucket for one hundred and fourteen point eight seconds.

"Oh really? How nice of you." He wasn't sure why he was pushing her away, but he had to. If he didn't… maybe he would get better. Maybe she would help him heal. He knew he deserved none of that.

But she wouldn't let him. As if she knew what he was thinking, she cradled him to her, even though she was easily half his size. The girl really needed a few meals in her. Then he remembered his earlier train of thought.

"Are you a telepath?" She grimaced, and his stomach knotted in anticipation.

"Yes, but not a natural one, certainly not an experienced one, and I am not using it with you unless you ask me too. Besides, I'm so clumsy you would know immediately." She smiled, and he felt a tendril of thought come from her and knock courteously, but haltingly and unsure, at his defenses. Reaching out as well, he brushed hers carefully but with far more grace. In front of him, Violet gasped.

"Is something wrong?" He was out of breath from the sickness and the almost intimate meeting of minds. He had a strong pull towards her, and ridiculously wanted to bind the two of them just so he could have _someone_ in his mind to hold back the emptiness.

"I've just… never felt another telepath." She gulped, judging her words. "And I haven't even spoken to another life form in, oh, sixteen years?" His eyebrows shot up expressively.

"Is that so?" This caught him completely by surprise. He immediately called her out on the hole in her story. "You couldn't have been older that what, six?" He narrowed his gaze menacingly. "And if that's so, when did you travel with me?" Humph. Just as he was beginning to like her, the stupid ape lied to him even more. To his chagrin, Violet only giggled. He wanted to see surprise, remorse, quilt, anything but amusement.

"Oh no, doctor. I was a hundred seventy-one, if I remember correctly." The Doctor only stared at her, completely blind-sided.

"Ah." Then he hung his head to hide his smile, but he could do nothing to stop the deep chuckle that rose. Once more surprising him, she laughed too. Here he was, laying on the ground, half naked, leaning on a strange hundred and eighty-something year old girl, and _laughing_. It seemed neither of them would stop any time soon.

Eventually they both quieted down, easing into a much more companionable silence.

"Er, Doctor?"

"Yes, Violet?"

"I think you need a new wardrobe." He looked at her and nodded. She got up and offered her hands to him, at which he raised his eyebrows mockingly. "I'm stronger than I look, you know."

"I think I'm starting to understand that," he responded and she hefted him to his feet. He swayed more than was natural, and she quickly ducked under his pinwheeling arm to support him. He found that he loved the feel of the human (or what ever she was, he'd do some tests later) pressed up against his bare chest and had a fleeting wish for her to be topless, too.

Wait, what? Good lord, he was acting like a pubescent human male! Before he could pull away, however, Violet spoke.

"I think the TARDIS should be done with the wardrobe by now." For some reason, she now looked slightly uncomfortable, and he couldn't imagine why. Maybe it was because he was clinging to her wearing nothing but trousers? There was something very strange going on here, but when he checked the timelines, it didn't seem wrong. In fact they looked like they were healing. Interesting.

"Here we are!" she said enthusiastically. Opening the wide door she ushered him in. She wanted to sit him in a chair, but there he drew the line.

"Fine, be that way, you grump," was said almost insultingly, but it was too obvious she was teasing for him actually be angry. "What do you want to try?" She grinned as if she knew something he didn't.

"Hmmm. What about a nice-cut suit?" Violet bit her lip at that, but left and quickly came back with a brown two-piece suit with pinstripes.

"Oh, I didn't realize I was a skinny rake with a horrid- _are those pinstripes_?" Violet was practically cackling now and he could barely keep the grin off his face, opting to cross his arm in consternation. "What else would I wear with that, anyway? I can't run in dress shoes." Violet gave him a sly smile.

"What about a pair of these?" she asked, wiggling her Converse-clad feet. He could only stare, insulted beyond words. She kept going. "And that coat Janis Joplin gave you! And a nice… ooh! What about a bowtie?" He shook his head, teasingly disappointed. He pushed back more questions about her past with him and decided – it was only clothes, after all – to trust her on this.

"Ha! Oh well, maybe next time." She stood up and walked behind a stack of boxes and came out with one labeled with a black marker **9**. His eyebrow quirked. In answer, she said, "I made this as an afterthought while helping the TARDIS rebuild." As his mind reeled from this new revelation, she set the box on the table on front of her and opened it. Before he could get a good look, she pulled out a very nice pair of black combat boots. "What do you think?"

"It'll do, I suppose." She smiled, obviously thinking that meant a yes.

"And these?" A tailored pair of non-formal black trousers followed the boots. Next was a dusky purple, long sleeved, short V-neck jumper. He harrumphed, skeptical. It wasn't bad, yet it was missing something. "Alright, go change!" She handed the clothes to him and bumped he hip against him, nudging him towards the divider.

He grumbled out loud to her as he changed, but as he put each item on, he found they fit rather well. It wasn't quite right, and he felt far too exposed and understated (especially considering his sixth body), but it would have to do. Walking out, he first saw his reflection.

"Not too bad… but would you look at the ears! And the nose looks like I got into a bar brawl!"

"Well I like it." Violet's voice came from somewhere behind him, but he didn't notice her until she placed something dark and heavy on his shoulders, easing the coat onto him. It was a thick leather coat, almost like armor, that wasn't too different from the one he had worn in the… he blinked away the image. This coat was far nicer, and went with his personality like a house on fire.

"So…" Violet prompted with a grin.

"Fantastic!" Ooh, that sounded rather nice.

"My thoughts exactly, Doctor." He turned to her. He realized she was looking at him with such… was that love? He shut that door immediately. No one in their right mind would even think about getting close to him. Not that she was normal. Violet seemed so much more. And he had known her all of a day and he was beginning to with she would never leave. Just as a precaution, he decided not to let her get too close.

She took his arm and held it close and they walked to his room together and he let a small smile escape. Or he could simply return the gesture. That wasn't dangerous, and he didn't want to scare her off completely. He liked the company. She wasn't perfect, she spoke her mind too brazenly, and she kept far too many secrets. But just now, she felt as right on him as the coat did.

"Doctor?"

"Rose?"

"Tomorrow, would you like to go somewhere?"

"You read my mind." Actually, he was very glad she hadn't. That wouldn't do well for the whole 'keep her ignorant' thing. When they came to his door he turned to her again.

"Human or no, you still need your rest, Violet." She looked up at him, eyes so innocent and bright for someone who had seen as much as she hinted at. He felt his own face soften in return.

"If you're sure," he nodded. "I'll be right next door if you need me" She rose onto the balls of her feet and kissed his cheek. "'night, Doctor" She entered her room and closed the door.

"Goodnight." Walking into his own room, he found that the TARDIS had replaced most of his books and belongings. Without Violet, the room seemed a little darker. From that darkness, the past slowly crept upon him. Kicking off his new boots and shrugging the jacket onto the chair, he laid on top of the covers and fell into memory.

 **A/N: There you go! I was initially planning on Nine being super debilitated, but he always covers it well, so it might take a while for that darkness to present itself… But it will!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Introspection and Fireplaces**

 **Disclaimer: I wouldn't have to eat ramen so often if I did own Doctor Who or anything else named here.**

 **A/N: Ok, so this chapter was way fluffier than expected, but it will not always be like this. Nine is still very dark, but we can't put them in danger yet! No Beta yet, so anyone interested, PM me?**

The Doctor didn't need any more sleep, but neither did he want to lay there, thinking of the War, which he was bound to do whenever alone, until Violet woke. So he compromised. He thought about Violet.

She really was something else. He knew he couldn't trust her no matter how much she seemed to know about him, but the way she looked at him – like she trusted him unreservedly – totally threw him. However, he was more than willing to peg his reaction to her on her being the one to revive him.

Her face was the first this face ever saw. That alone put up a warning sign a mile long. For the rest of his lives, he would remember her, for good or for bad. Although other than speaking like Yoda, which was usually _his_ job, she hadn't done anything to hurt him. Yet.

But she had made him smile, laugh even! Well, it was more of a chuckle, but still. He was torn, broken, a harbinger of death. He never would come to terms with that, he knew. He deserved cruelty, hatred, disgust, _anything_ but this gentle sympathy Violet offered.

What truly terrified him was that this girl could offer him forever; and in a way, she had. _I'll stay as long as you want me_. And what of her age? The moment he decided to destroy his own people, he had known he would never again be able to be with anyone forever, never more than a few decades.

There were two constants in his life, and he didn't believe he could handle or believe anything or anyone else who offered as much. His TARDIS was magnificent, of course, but she was very different than any companion he had ever had travel with him. The only other thing he had was his sonic screwdr-

His sonic! The Doctor spun around the room frantically, searching for his most trusty tool. But wait… He kept it in hid jacket pocket, but he woke up without it. Had Violet undressed him? _Down boy, think about that later._ He needed to find it, maybe make repairs if it had been damaged, or even replace the casing if he had to. While one part of his brain was searching the TARDIS, the other was organizing what to do when he found it. Maybe he'd make it blue? He had enjoyed the purple one, not so much the red one, though. What about green?

He couldn't find it. He had absolutely no clue where it was. Violet, however, should know. He decided that if she was going to start taking his things, she would most certainly not be staying long.

Striding to the door that connected their rooms (he sent a mental thread of displeasure to the TARDIS at that, but she only gave him the equivalent of a cheeky grin) and opened it forcefully. What he was met with soon made him halt.

He had suspected that should be uncommonly smart, if only for her age, but he had underestimated the extent of her studies. Piles of books covered the floor, some collections so high he couldn't see over them. It was like walking in a forest of books. An irrational fear of the mountains of paper coming down on him assaulted him and he distanced himself from the tallest ones. Reading the spines, he saw textbooks on psychology, advanced physics, even obscure subjects like dark matter and purely theoretical claims. Picking up one off the top of this stack, he opened it to the middle. Over the entire page, notes were hastily scribbled in black, blue, red, or green ink. Apparently, each color meant a different thing.

Moving on to the next cluster, he saw only smutty romance novels and young adult fiction. Apparently, his guest had little taste when it came to literary appreciation. That is, until he neared a large onyx table (which was perfect for experimenting with dangerous chemicals on) and saw a large collection of Charles Dickens, multiple volumes of each novel, placed carefully on stands. Briefly, he wondered why she had placed them in almost a reverent setting. Not that he was complaining. If she liked Dickens so much, maybe they would get along after all.

What caught his eye, more than almost anything in the room except the strange humanoid robot in the corner and Violet sprawled on the covers, was a TARDIS blue gift box tied with a golden ribbon. Written in small, messy handwriting next to it was a propped piece of paper that read _Doctor._

Was he really so predictable that she could guess he would come into her room? Unfolding the piece of paper, he read the small note she had left.

 _I am very sorry, but your sonic wasn't quite functional after I found you, and please forgive me the liberty had to take by undressing you. Incidentally, the TARDIS gave me the schematics required to repair it. While you slept, I did the best I could. It is, however the same software, just a different case. In fact there was a program running still, so I transferred that as well. Hope you don't mind._

 _Love, Violet_

The Doctor stared at the note. Who the hell did she think she was? He tried not to grumble enough to wake her up, but he was far from happy. Opening the box, he pulled out the new screwdriver. She said she hadn't messed with it, but he wanted to make sure.

He pulled up a dark wooden chair and sat down of the velvet cushion. Not for the first time, he wondered why his ship had given her such impressive living quarters. He brushed it off as another oddity that seemed to emanate from this girl. He began to examine it thoroughly, adding and removing settings as he went, and ended with a reluctantly impressed huff. It wasn't perfect, but he rarely liked things that were.

He felt a tingle on the back of his neck when Violet slipped out of bed with near silence and approached the table.

"What do you think?" The heat that rose from her breezed along his back and he repressed a shiver.

"It isn't too bad."

"For a human?" turning to her, he eyed her sleepwear with dismay; it was thin and flowy, with loose shorts and sleeves that covered three quarters of her arms. Her eyes were slightly red from sleep and her hair was mussed like she had been turning while she slept.

"No human could even follow those instructions, much less add a setting for toast and another for _bubble bath soap_ ," he stood as he said this, towering over her slight frame. "So, I'm guessing you're not human then, correct?"

She didn't respond, but sighed and took his hand. She led him out of the maze of clutter and into the hallway. He began to protest but Violet cut him a no-nonsense look as they continued down the hallway, took two rights, ascended a small flight of stairs, past the pool, through the bar (which was completely new, although the counter had _Jack was here_ carved into it) and into the library.

The Doctor felt relieved to find that it was the very same one he had left, with only minor adjustments, like one large couch and two very large armchairs instead of his usual singular tall, regal armchair and footrest.

The vaulted ceiling, balconies, and monumental fireplace made the room look larger than it was, and yet it still felt like a safe, sheltered place. Even if an outsider was here. He rarely let his companions in the library, but Violet dropped his hand and flopped onto the chair on the right, looking for all the world like she belonged there, if a little teary eyed.

"Something wrong?" He tried to keep his tone light and detached, but he was truly curious.

"Just missed this a lot, I guess," she said while gazing at the fire.

"Does this mean you're going to explain yourself now?" he asked, anxious to get this over with.

"Nope" He tried not to roll his eyes. He really did, but these ones apparently did it far too easily.

"And why is that?" He also felt no need to shout, even though he felt steam nearly coming out his ears.

"Weeell," Where had she picked up all the ridiculous mannerisms? Sometimes he imagined she only did certain things to annoy him. Either way, it was working. "Remember I said we would travel somewhere first, and then I would talk?" He harrumphed in acknowledgement. "And secondly, I can't tell you too much, just like I can't dress or say things too similar to my younger self. I'm going to have to lock these memories away once I leave to find the older you, but I can't risk you seeing young me and suddenly knowing everything about my future." His eyebrows raised, and he didn't like her talking about leaving, but he was intrigued and curious as to who her young self was. Will be. Whatever. She continued. "Especially since, knowing you, you'd try to change it."

"I wouldn't risk a paradox that big for one _stupid ape,_ not even an immortal one." Again, he tried to offend her, get her to back off a little. Instead, just like the last time, she only smiled up at him.

Instead of responding to the insult or pushing her point, which he fully expected her to do, she only gestured for him to sit on the couch across from her. He remained standing.

"I think I enjoyed you more when you were recovering from regeneration sickness. You were a lot funnier," she winked, accompanying it with a sly grin. He almost groaned the things he did… but worse were the things he had thought.

"What do you think my older self could want with you?" He wanted some reaction out of her, but when the tiniest flash of hurt appeared in her beautiful eyes, he felt a stab of remorse at causing pain to the only person who stood by him. Cursing himself, he waited hesitantly for her reply.

"No idea. Maybe you'll want nothing to do with me. Hell, maybe he's forgotten me, moved on, anything." Right then and there, he decided to slap his older self for apparently turning into such a weak-minded arse if he left someone like this behind. "I'm sure he's already found someone new to travel with, maybe several, but I need to get a message to him."

She looked up at him, eyes sad, and he felt himself melt a little. He wanted to be sympathetic, but simply couldn't bring himself to reassure her. "There's something coming. I call it the Darkness, but it's actually a reality bomb made by… an enemy." She looked up at him and he wondered who she had been about to name. Someone important to his timeline, apparently. He couldn't wait.

"How long will it have been for me since you left?" She looked up at him, eyes glinting sharply.

"I didn't leave. We were separated. I got stuck in a parallel universe, coincidentally causing my-" she gestured to her twenty-something year old body "condition." He raised his eyebrows and made a note to query her further on that subject, but he let her finish answering his previous question. "But while for me it's been over a century and a half – that universe had only a weak connection to this one, causing a few disjointed timelines – I expect it's only been about two years for him."

"What will you tell him? Will you return these memories or-" She put up a hand.

"I'm not sure. I hope I can figure it out while staying here with you."

"And how long will that be?" He tried not to sound anxious, and he might've succeeded.

"Frankly? As long as I can. You told me how old you were when I met you, so I should get out before then to avoid any problems, but we have a while yet." She looked so young just then, he thought. She was terrified he wouldn't want her. "That is, if you'll have me. I have a friend, Jack, who I should be able to find eventually, but he might be really mad at me too, so I'd have to make it up to him, I mean, he is Jack, and he'll probably live as long as I will, and that could make things easier, but I have to face you're older self eventually-" When she finally stopped for breath, he broke though her nervous ramblings.

"I think I would certainly like to have you with me, Violet." He wasn't sure, but he thought he could see tears gathering in her eyes. "But only if you promise not to mess with my sonic again." He fixed her with a stern gaze.

"Yes sir!" Again, he met with the tongue that poked through her teeth as she grinned happily at him. He started to back away, heading to the shelves on the far side of the room, but she called his name.

Turning to her, he raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Yes, Violet?"

"Would you like to go somewhere?" He thought for a moment, covering his excitement at traveling again after so long.

"Where do you propose?"

"How about Hyperion 3? You mentioned it once, but we never got there." Without his consent, his eye lit up in anticipation of the golden spires and red Vlaeroch. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Well what are we waiting for?" She jumped to her feet and they rushed to the console room.

 **A/N: I'm sorry about kinda-mean Nine, but give the poor guy some space, will ya? Next stop, Hyperion 3! This story will be made up of a few original adventures, some that were briefly mentioned in cannon, and a few rewrites of episodes. Review for me?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Two Heads and an Angel Infestation**

 **Disclaimer: I have as much chance to own Doctor Who as Rory Williams does at staying alive. He is one of my absolute favorite companions, by the way.**

 **A/N: Still looking for a Beta! So I'm trying to post Wednesdays but I don't know what my readers would like! Maybe Mondays and Fridays once I amass more chapters? Please leave a message so I know what you're expecting, thanks :) And for anyone wondering why Nine seemed too unaffected, stay tuned! Muahahaha!  
**

The Doctor set he coordinates for Hyperion 3, then another idea occurred to him. Perhaps another planet was due a visit. The TARDIS denied and fought him at first, but she was too exhausted to keep it up for long. She spun out of the Vortex, rolling and causing a general air of mania between the two occupants. Laughing and completely oblivious, Violet pulled herself off the grating and stood as tall as she could to look him in the eye.

"So what am I going to find out there?" Her brown eyes sparked with excitement.

"Well, I've landed us in the year 4698, five years before the indigenous species makes it's first contact with another species." He had switched into lecture mode and would have gone on for quite a while, describing the short blue people with four arms and the upper class that were too lazy to do anything but float around on hovercraft like they were oh so important, but Violet had already run to the doors, flung them open, and was about to go outside. "Violet! Wait!" Rassilion, she really didn't listen,

"So this is Hyperion 3? I was expecting mountains and gold and stuff." He walked up behind her and leaned out.

"Oh! Nope, got it wrong," he said, although this was perfectly right. "This is Alfava Metraxis. Seventh planet of the Dundra system, home to some wonderful people called the Aplans. They've got two heads Violet! Nice, oxygen rich atmosphere, all toxins in the soft band so we don't need to worry about that, eleven hour day, and…" Here he stopped, sniffed the air, then looked back at her. "Chances of rain later."

"You think you're so impressive when you do that." She smirked at the pleased look on her face.

"Oi! I am impressive!" Damn her. "Anyway," he continued, wanting to move on, "We should see what today's got for us!" leading the way out of the TARDIS, they immediately came out onto the edge of an incredibly tall, sheer cliff. Far below them, a flat rocky beach stretched out for miles. Turning around, he saw a pretty little temple, with two male heads, two female, and some with both. "Say, Violet?" he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"what's up Doc?" He knew she had been trying to sound cheeky, but the look of wonder and anticipation for a prospective adventure took all fight out of her and he couldn't help but see her as incredibly vulnerable. He shivered and looked her in the eye.

"Would you like to see an Aplan festival?" She grinned at him and reached for his hand, almost unconsciously it seemed, but he reused to cross that barrier he had set up between them. She dropped her hand, but still smiled. It seemed a little uncertain, more wary, now.

"Absolutely."

~:~:~

The Doctor soon found the Ceremony of Alidimia, the first Aplan descendant of their favored goddess, Alpine.

Standing by her as they watched the entertainment the festival offered, the Doctor began to tell Violet about the goddess.

"See, the entire civilization is centered around logic and math and reason, which is why they are such great builders. Also, Alpine wasn't actually a goddess, and the Aplans don't really have deities, but those wo have become heroes, or great scientists, or builders have been raised up and given titles which translate close to gods and goddesses. What we're celebrating today is Alpine's scientific proof of a soul that ascends seven levels before reaching he unknown lands, a sort of heaven or Elysium."

He paused as a train of Rube Goldberg-like contraptions rolled past. Each one had a continuous and repeating puzzle of levers and scales and weights moving to propel it forward even as the same movement kept the clockwork moving, purely self-sufficient. He looked down at Violet, if only to see that same expression of wonder he loved so much on his companion's faces. He was disappointed.

Violet looked on at the festivities, lips parted and eyes wide. The expression wasn't any different, but it looked wrong, somehow. He stamped down the urge to do something wholly irrational. She had taken a breath to say something when a man stood up on a tall podium in front of the crowd. He used his words like someone important, asserting her achievements as if the work of a long since dead woman was his own. The Doctor rolled his eyes, regretting his decision to come here. What soon caught his attention though, was when the even more pompous other head began to talk about the temple he had built _last week_. He didn't say "finished last week" or "began building last week" but _built_ , which suggested he had both started and finished in an extraordinary amount of time.

"Doctor, did you hear that?" Oh, perceptive Violet noticed as well. She was quick; he would certainly have to watch himself around her lest he let anything slip and fall into her wide line of vision.

"What do you take me for, an idiot?" was his brash response coupled with a sneer. Without waiting to see her reaction, he forged ahead to speak with a double male-headed citizen. Forcing his newest companion out of his head so he could focus on his own questions was harder than he anticipated. Fed up, he started to query the gentlemen on who this loud-mouthed self-proclaimed genius was.

"Oh, that's Almaxis. He took over as head architect a few years back." Both heads stopped and studied him for a moment. "Where you from that you don't know?"

"Just a ways away," he dismissed the curious glances. He clasped his hands behind him in a typical non-threatening innocent-curious-bystander pose. "What was that new temple he built, then?"

"Oh that was to honor Alpath's birthday. He introduced us to the Angel," The left head the left head continued.

"What's this Angel, then?" The Doctor had to stop himself from lashing out as Violet appeared behind him without warning. The right head smiled at her.

"Violet! How are you? Almae told you that you can come over any time right?"

"How do you know my name?" Violet looked alarmed since she obviously had never met this person before. The faces in front of them raised four eyebrows.

"Oh! I'm so sorry my dear, you said this day would come!" He looked sadly at the two of them. The Doctor had had enough of the enigmatic speech and glared down at Violet. He grasped her arm loosely and pulled himself down for her to hear, but she gasped a little in.. surprise?

"We're time travelers, we can meet people that have already met us, remember?" Violet, although he still thought she looked concerned, nodded. "Now," he started loudly, returning to the Aplan in front of them, "Tell me about this angel."

"They say she has to keep her face hidden so we never see how beautiful she is. Apparently, anyone who sees her face dies soon afterwards." The Doctor and Violet traded alarmed glances while the head paused. "Every month, a sacrifice is made and sometimes she even speaks to the authorities. But you said," once again looking at Violet, "that she was dangerous. I can't tell you much, I'm sorry."

"And who are the authorities?" The two heads looked in the same direction and pointed.

"That's all thanks!" the Doctor called over his shoulder as he and Violet ran to catch up with the head architect. As they neared the wide circle of important looking people, the Doctor made sure to keep an eye on Violet. The look of wonder had disappeared, replaced by nervousness and a little fear.  
"You doing alright?" She met his gaze looking surprised and forced the worried look away.

"An angel who covers her face and kills regularly and someone who obviously knows me far better than I know him. Or them…? Sounds bad and slightly familiar." The look returned. "Have you ever heard of the Weeping Angels?" His nose wrinkled in remembrance, not liking where his memories took him.

"Yes, but it was quite a while ago, and there's something not right." He stopped, grabbing her arm roughly and dragging her close to whisper. "One, Angels don't speak. Two, how the hell would you know about them?" He gave her his best glare and she shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

"Greenwich." He leaned away, taken aback.

"What?"

"There were two in a cemetery in Greenwich. I lost two friends that day. Got notes and pictures from their descendants a day later, so I decided to do what research I could." That was a decent explanation, so he let the fierce look drop. Obviously relieved, she came back to stand next to him. It seemed that he height was perfect for him to offer his arm and he did so unthinkingly. It appeared just as instinctual for Violet to catch it and hold him close. He grimaced and tensed and she made that little gasping noise again, this time a little sharper than before.

"That still doesn't answer my other question." With his free hand, he scratched the back of his head in thougt.

"Let's ask the man in charge then!" Violet took off, nearly yanking his arm out of place in her hurry. He followed her gaze to see Almaxis excusing himself from the crowd and entering a large, artistic villa. The room they entered soon after the architect was moderately sized and furnished, although several precious stones and unique artifacts stood in display cases throughout the room.

"Anyone home?" he called cheerfully. Violet stepped forward into the next room and he saw her whirl and fall to the ground the next instant. "Violet?" was the last thing he called before a sharp _crack_ sounded above him and he, too, dropped to the floor.

~:~:~

Groaning, the Doctor pushed himself onto his hands and knees, catching his breath before glancing around. All around him were echoing noises, bouncing through the darkness. A cry of pain far behind him, footfalls from his left, and even farther away sounded a terrified scream, soon cut off without finishing.

The Doctor reached down into his breast pocket, pulling out a small torch and his sonic. Scanning the ground below him, he ascertained he was in the fourth sediment layer below the surface, about two miles away from the exit he had seem when they first landed.

"Violet!" he called, letting his voice boom between the stone walls.

"Hello, Doctor." He spun and threw his arm out. An "oomph" came from his assailant as he connected with a thin frame. Reaching out, he held them by the shoulder and shook, forcing a strangled cry out. When the red of adrenaline in his vision cleared, he found himself face-to-face with none other than the woman he had come here with. He immediately dropped his arm and surveyed her appearance, immediately noticing the differences. Her clothes were that of a native Aplan woman, and her hair was done up in traditional braids piled on her head. His gut clenched.

"How long?" He didn't need to elaborate. The angel had found her, old her, and transported her back in time.

"Only a few years, the angel doesn't need to take much energy because of mow many are available to her." Violet smiled and took his hand firmly in hers. He didn't pull away. Violet wasn't angry, or bitter, or wanted to leave, but he grasped the hand more firmly.

"Violet, I am- I'm…" His tongue felt heavy and he tripped over his words before she cut him off with her hand.

"Don't worry, I was able to help out a lot with my extra time." She walked away, guiding him down the myriad of tunnels.

"Where are we going then?" No guilt weighed on his chest, but they needed to get out before he could face any of her accusations.

"Out," was her quick response. "For five years, I've come down here and looked for you at this festival. What the church does is find outsiders, criminal, or the odd volunteer to throw down here. Like I said, the Angel doesn't need to displace them much, so most of them live to find their families again." Here, they found a path that led into bright sunlight and he looked at her, surprised. "Shortcut." She grinned widely and let them out and he inhaled sharply. They were right outside the TARDIS. Feet away, actually.

"But sometimes, the Angel wants to contact the people up here. She snaps the neck of a victim and uses his vocals cords to speak." Violet shivered. He noticed she looked more than pretty with her hair pulled up that way. "Remember that temple the pompous one was talking about?" He nodded. "She requested it in her honor. A bit of an ego, that one."

"Violet, we should have left the moment I thought there was something wrong here, and now you've been-" Violet threw her arms around his neck in a strong hug. His own arms wrapped stiffly around her middle, clinging to the unfamiliar heat. This strange woman was unique, even for him. She said she had lived for years alone, and none could come out of it as cheerful as her. Even though it was a very good façade. She had kept going. She came to him and pulled him to his feet. She had gotten hurt, and he guessed it wasn't the first time, and here she was, hugging and consoling _him_.

"I know, and I forgive you." She pulled away enough to look him in the eye. Untangling himself from each her, he moved back toward the festivities. He kept an eye on her for bitterness or anger, but she just seemed sad. That unnerved him just as much. "I woke up, probably much as you did. It was pitch black, and I thought I felt someone behind me I realized that I was in the maze of the dead below the temple, and so I tried to feel my way around. I didn't get far." Her voice had dropped but there was no emotion in it, protecting herself from the memory. The Doctor recognized it as something he used to do far too often. "When I came to again, it was bright daylight and I was right in the mouth of the tunnel. I had no idea what year we had gotten here, so I just… waited." She leaned towards him conspiratorially. "For once I was glad that I don't age."

"And now you're here?"

"Yep," she announced, popping the 'p' again. He hated that, but it was amusing when she did it. "Been working to stop the authorities and relocate as many families as I could." He understood.

"There isn't a real way to beat the Angel, so we should just get everyone away, you think." He nodded, not really listening.

"Actually, I think it's _Angels,_ plural. Some how, with all the energy it got, it did some Angel science stuff that I obviously could never understand and replicated itself." She shook her head sadly as they walked to the top of a hill overlooking the town. The Doctor noticed this time that the streets didn't seem very crowded, and a few of the buildings were vacant. He didn't like this new development, but he wondered how she knew there were more Angels. As if sensing his curiosity, she spoke up.

"I listen in on the meetings the authorities hold, and they've been mentioning that the Angel says 'we' or 'more need to be fed.'" She looked disgusted and he resisted the urge to put his arm around her. "Even they are getting nervous."

The Doctor had an idea at that and bounced to his feet, taking her hand again, though not as shyly.

"You know what, Violet? I think we're going to have a nice chat with the head architect!" He spun her down the hill as they raced towards the swarming parade of people. "Maybe he'll even invite us to dinner!" He grinned, letting his mania consume him, just like he had so many times before.

~:~:~

The Doctor sat at a large white table with Violet next to him, both with large green napkins on their laps and stuffing food into their mouths.

"How've you been, Violet?" The Doctor almost snorted. The old fools had been staring at her, alternately one head ogling her long tanned legs, and the other her chest, both pleasantly accentuated by her new attire. The Doctor couldn't really blame them however. He shook his head and brought his attention back to her reply.

"Oh, just fine! I've found my friend again, as you can see. He has an awful habit of wandering off, but I always find him again." She slid him a sly grin. And he rolled his eyes before grinning widely, the smile that in his sixth face always got him a response, not matter how grumpy.

"Yes! That's me! In fact, I would like to ask you something about this Angel infestation you have." His eyes narrowed as they got up from their seat and started forwards. Moving quickly, he strode up and behind them. Putting his hands on their shoulders, he tossed them back in the chair. Violet had stood, but now waited silently for his next words with wide eyes. Leaning over between their ears, he asked one more, simple question.

"How many are there now?" The architects spluttered and tried to twist to see him but failed.

"Oh… ah, well, perhaps… about, what would you say… a few hundred perhaps?" Their body was shaking in his grasp. He let out a loud, short "HA!" before slapping the men's back good-naturedly. "As it should be!" Walking back to Violet, he turned her towards the exit with a hand on the small of her back. "Thanks very much for the food, and good luck with the…" He waved vaguely, "architecture." He grinned widely and continued out.

"But Doctor!" turning only half way, he raised his eyebrows. "What of the Angels? Violet said they-"

"Oh don't worry about all that, I've got it all handled nicely," he nodded and turned again, ignoring all questions put to him and pasting a pleasant smile on his face.

He did the same to Violet all though town, eyes glinting brightly, waving and asking mothers about their children, vendors about their wares. Violet resisted and began to speak when they approached the TARDIS, but he held her arm and assured her all was well.

When he finally entered the TARDIS, he approached the console, relaxed and ready to go somewhere else.

"Doctor?" He hummed for her to go on. "What happens to the Aplans now?" Was her voice shaking? Perhaps she as tired. He started the dematerialization sequence.

"In about four and a half more years, the Aplans will be extinct. Their monuments and temples will stand for years over the whole planet that will soon belong to the Angels. That's a fixed point, however." He leaned against the console, crossing his arms. "Where to next?" Her breathing hitched and she swallowed thickly. He almost laughed at humanity's inability to reign in emotion.

"Um, I think I should actually get some sleep, you know?"

"You humans. Sleep half your lives away, you will." He turned back to the console, ready to tinker as he always did when his companions slept. He heard Violet's quick, light footsteps recede into the depths of the ship before sinking back on his heels. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand across his face.

"I'm so sorry Old Girl." If a TARDIS could weep, he thought she would have then.

An alert popped up on the monitor. Standing up, he pulled it closer to read. Because of her prolonged exposure to an unfamiliar environment, Violet had been vulnerable to all kinds of diseases. His companion was currently infused with Haelmafrantis, a worm that crystalized all the cartilage in any living body. First ears and nose, then deeper. It took a very long time to die from, but was infamous as one of the most painful non-lethal conditions in the universe at the time. Thankfully he had all the equipment necessary to rid her of the parasite with little to no damage done.

The Doctor was about to retrieve her when an idea occurred. She aged slowly, obviously. But how would her body react to a hostile organism? He decided he would keep a record of her progress. After all, he knew little of this girl and owed her less. Perhaps now he could learn something.

The TARDIS shrieked in his head, but he ducked under the console to rewrite her recent memory banks. Erasing it back to the way it was five minutes ago was the best he could do, but he also was able to disable her automatic medical updates coded for Violet, leaving his intact. As she forgot, the TARDIS's cries became quieter until she lapsed into a brooding silence.

~:~:~

Rose threw herself into her room and sat down on a chair, breathing heavily and trying to control her heartbeat. Her sister groaned pitifully in her head. He had seemed so relaxed, not happy, but ready to face the world again.

Now, Rose knew it was just the TARDIS keeping him together. The moment he stepped away from her protection he began to fall apart.

A tear slid down her cheek.

He had taken her to see the end of another race, and he knew it was fixed. Worse, some twisted part of him enjoyed it. She felt every too-tight grasp where she couldn't help but gasp in pain. In the catacombs, he had been surprised, she knew, but he had grasped her throat until she had to for ar. Her arm in his had been twisted, held until the fingers turned blue. And the Doctor never batted an eye. After five years, she wondered if he had even noticed hurting her.

Those five years had made her love the world she was in. It was a little corrupt, to be sure, but kind words and selfless deeds were abundant. A little girl with a brother head had come to her little mud hut every day to give her flowers while the boy said he would marry her when he grew up. The people who had first taken her in already had three pairs out and in society, but fed and clothed her anyway. Her own home had been built by a local school to thank her for correcting their textbooks. Later, she had worked there as a maths teacher.

More tears came as she tried to remember every child in her classes. Now to her, they were all dead. A sob got past her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand. The worst thought yet came to her again.

He had known they would all die. Irrational guilt spread to her heart. The clear blue eyes were now clouded with grief and something far more sinister. His smile was too wide, dropped too quickly. When she knew him, his eyes had crinkled when he smiled. Now, they glared the truth.

This was not her Doctor.

 **A/N: Dark!Doctor is just starting! I can get a lot grittier than this, but I'm not sure if that's where I'm going yet. Quotes and setting are from season 5 The Time of Angels. Anyone feeling bad for Rose? Nervous for the Doctor? Waiting for me to get off my ass and write some more? Stop trying to use British terms? Tell me in a review!**


End file.
